


Sticking Up For Big Mouth

by orphan_account



Category: Adam Levine (Musician), Blake Shelton (Musician), The Voice (US) RPF
Genre: M/M, Shevine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-24
Updated: 2014-02-24
Packaged: 2018-01-13 14:25:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1229800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Adam Levine has a big mouth and sometimes it gets him into trouble. Thankfully Blake has his back, even if it means getting into a fight.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sticking Up For Big Mouth

**Author's Note:**

> This story is in response to a request sent into the Tumblr group Shevine Fan Fiction (shevinefanfic.tumblr.com)

Adam Levine had a big mouth.

It was something that had always been on him, from the time he was old enough to use it. He might have been a bit shy and self conscious in high school, but he also knew the power of a well timed sarcastic comment. Of course, back in those days they were just as likely to help as they were to cause a sudden collision between his face and the other guy's fist. 

In adulthood it resulted in less black eyes, especially after he became famous, but one could easily google lists of all the stupid things he'd said since Maroon 5 became popular. People who didn't get his sarcastic brand of humor sometimes thought he was egotisical or a douche bag. But that was okay, Adam was who he was and he knew his big mouth was part of the package.

Blake Shelton knew this too, and being a loud mouth himself it was a match made in heaven. Or on the set of a hit TV show. Either way, they fit together just right. 

They were keeping it on the download, but that was just fine with them. It meant keeping what was special between them just for their two hearts and without the judgement of others. Things would go public soon enough on their own, for now they were riding the high of having found the right person and being with them without anyone else's concerns.

That night they'd decided to go out for a drink after they finished taping some new promos for the show. Usually they did their drinking at Adam's place, which was slowly becoming Blake's place in LA too. But for some reason, perhaps the hint of spring in the air, Adam suggested going to an actual bar. 

Blake agreed on the condition that he could pick the place out, and he managed to find a small bar that looked like it belonged more in Oklahoma than Los Angeles. The city was slowly growing on him, but he would always be an Okie. When he opened the door for Adam, he laughed at the country music that greeted them.

"Isn't that your song?" Adam raised an eyebrow. 

He nodded, grinning. "That's my song. It's always like...strange but wonderful when that happens, even after well over a decade." 

"I know what you mean," The younger man agreed with a smile, glancing around the crowded, smoke filled room. "Hey, they've got a dance floor over there. Is line dancing still a thing?"

Blake made a face. "I think that went out like ten years ago. Besides...I'm not dancing." 

"I thought all cowboys could line dance." Adam shot back teasingly. "Come on...bootscoot your boogie."

He rolled his blue eyes. "Just for that, you're buying the first round."

Adam nodded his agreement. "Alright." He glanced around to find an empty table and found none. "I guess we're going to have to sit at the bar?" 

They walked over to the huge, mahogany polished bar with minature wagon wheels stuck on the sides for extra affect. There were two seats side by side, thankfully, because rest of the stools had already been taken. There was a quite a crowd in there tonight and it made Blake smile a little. He sat on a stool and grinned at the bartender. 

"Didn't think I'd find a genuine honky tonk in LA." 

"Why do you think we're so crowded?" The bartender smiled back and nodded. "What'll it be?" 

"Beer's fine," Adam spoke up first. "Whatever Big Country here wants..."

"Miller?" Blake suggested to the bartender, who seemed a little miffed at Adam calling him 'Big Country.' Apparently he didn't watch the show. 

"Two Millers." The bartender agreed and set the tall glasses in front of them a minute later. "Let me know if you need anything else. If you go through that doorway, past the dance floor, we got a little cafe there. Serve burgers, fries, Friday night type of stuff."

Blake's weakness was anything fried, so he nodded enthusiastically. "We'll check that out after a few rounds."

"Might as well," Adam agreed, beyond trying to drastically change his boyfriend's eating habits. 

For the next half hour or so they just enjoyed the ambiance of the bar over two beers each. Blake told Adam who the different country singers that came over the sound system were, and they both talked animatedly about the new season of "The Voice" coming up. Every now and then someone would come up to them, but for the most part the other patrons kept their distance. Even in a crowded bar with loud music and other conversations all around them, it was easy for them to get lost in their own little world. 

"I could go for a burger," Blake said finally. "But first, I gotta take a leak." 

"TMI," Adam rolled his eyes. "I'll stay here and finish my beer, okay?" 

"Try not to say anything stupid." He cuffed the younger man upside the head affectionately before vacating his stool.

"Who me?" He heard Adam say to his retreating back. 

Blake went into the men's room and drained his bladder in relative peace. He went through a period of avoiding the urinal to avoid someone taking a picture on their camera phone of his dick and spreading it around the internet. Then he decided he didn't have anything to be ashamed of and stopped caring. That was one part of his body he felt confident about, at least, though he didn't take his shirt off for a reason. The roll of baby fat his mother had reassured him would burn off after high school had returned after he hit thirty...and sometimes brought friends. 

He walked out of the bathroom and back to the bar, whistling a little tune to himself. Little dives were a favorite of his for eating out, and he was looking forward to a nice, greasy hamburger and fries. Then they'd go back home and maybe have a little dessert. Or they'd watch a movie and chill out in front of the TV for awhile before bed. More often than not Blake was the first one to go down for the night and Adam would wake him up when he was ready to go upstairs to bed. They were at the point in their relationship that Blake had no qualms falling asleep on the couch in front of the rock star.

His happy thoughts, however, were distracted when he noticed there was a lot of movement going on near the bar. And some shouting he couldn't make out. A skinny, dark haired man was getting shoved up against the bar, the linebacker want to be in a cowboy hat grasping him by the collar.

"Oh shit," He groaned and hurried over to rescue his friend. 

Blake was a few moments too late, though, because the bigger man decked Adam in the face right before he could get within range to break it up. He felt his stomach tense when he saw his partner grab his nose. Blood trickled between his fingers and he sagged back against the bar, stunned. The sight of blood was the last straw for Blake. You didn't hurt someone that Blake Shelton loved without paying the consequences. 

"Teach you to keep your fucking mouth shut." The man took two steps back away from Adam, seeming pleased with himself. Then took a third step and found himself against a solid wall. When he turned around to see what he'd hit, he found himself face to face with a very pissed off Okie. 

"You're gonna regret that one." He slugged the man as hard as he could in the face. Blake didn't fight that often, but no one was going to hit Adam, no matter what had come out of his mouth. Still, it hurt his hand a lot more than he'd remembered from his last go round in a bar. And the fist that suddenly slammed into his cheek hurt even more. 

Though few men were taller than Blake, who stood an impressive six foot five, this creep was at least six three and built like a mack truck. He was at least three hundred and fifty pounds, a good hundred and change over Blake's weight. But unlike a Los Angeles cowboy, he still did farm work when he wasn't off being a country singer and it kept him strong. With all his might he shoved the other man into the bar and raised a finger at him in warning. 

"You better check yourself..." His Oklahoma accent was thick with anger. 

The mack truck shoved back off the bar and swung at Blake again. But this time he was expecting another punch and ducked just time in for the man's fist to part the air above his head. Then he jabbed his own fist into the small of the other man's back. It was a low blow to hit someone in the kidneys, yes, but Blake didn't want to get into an all out brawal and have the cops come. His career didn't need that, and honestly he didn't think his body would appreciate it much either. Being within spitting distance of forty he had started to notice he felt things more the morning after than he ever did on the other side of thirty-five. But for Adam, there wasn't anything he wouldn't do, including defend his honor.

The man went down to his knees, gasping for breath. He wasn't completely out of the fight, though, and slammed Blake in the side of the knee with his elbow. It seemed like Blake was quite a bit behind in his fighting skills, because he hit the ground hard. 

"You mother FUCKER!" He yelled at the man, holding his knee and glaring at him. 

"Better than defending my little boyfriend!" The man shot back with a vicious sneer. 

"Little boyfriend is sick of your shit." Adam retorted, appearing out of nowhere to kick the guy in the nuts. 

This time the man went down for good, curling into a ball and gasping. Adam grabbed Blake by the arm and carefully pulled him up. His white t-shirt was stained with blood down the front, but he seemed to have recovered his senses. Blake leaned on Adam and stumbled to his feet, wincing at the pain in his knee. He was really going to feel that one tomorrow. 

"Come on...let's get out of here before he gets back up," The rock star mumbled, wrapping his arm around Blake's waist to help him hobble out of the bar. 

Once they were outside, they both gave a sigh of relief. Neither really wanted a fight, they weren't really the fighting kind anymore, but there were obviously a few times that they were willing to cross that line. Especially for each other. There was a certain niceness to having each other's backs in that realm too. 

"You look like hell," Blake pointed out, frowning a little as he settled in the passenger seat. "Is your nose broken?"

"Let's worry about it when we get back home," Adam replied, though his voice was a bit more nasally than normal. He got behind the wheel of Blake's rental truck and wasted no time getting them out of there. "And.....thanks."

"You're welcome." He groaned and slumped back against the seat. "What did you say to that guy, anyway?"

In the darkness, Blake could still see the smirk cross Adam's face. Even with the blood under his nose and down his chin, he still looked very happy with himself. "He started pushing and shoving and I told him to slow his roll. He told me to shut up. I suggested he had 'roid rage and reminded him that it makes your nuts shrivel up like walnuts."

"You're fucking nuts, you know that?" Blake sighed and closed his eyes. "What are you going to do if your nose is mangled for life?"

Adam shrugged. "You should know by now I don't really think things through before I say something."

"Yeah, but I love you anyway." 

A few minutes later they were back home again and they shuffled into the living room with their arms around each other, looking like a pair of zombies. Blake's knee was about as swollen as Adam's nose. But once they were sitting down, they looked at each other and cracked up. 

"Look at you..." Blake leaned forward and touched Adam's nose gently. "Should we take you to the emergency room or something?" 

Adam winced. "I don't think it's broken. Am I getting two black eyes?" 

Blake studied him for a moment, then shook his head. "Nope...they look good." He bent it and placed a feather soft kiss on the swollen nose. "We'll watch it, though."

"How's your knee?" Adam started rolling up Blake's jeans to get a look, making a face when he found the joint turning purple and black. "Oh gross..."

"Gross? That's what I get for sticking up for you?" Blake chuckled, then cringed when Adam pressed his fingers to his knee. "Ow..ow..leave it.." 

"You need an ice pack." He pointed out, standing up. "I'll be right back..." 

"Let me help you with your nose," Blake started to rise stifly, but Adam pushed him back down lightly. 

"I'll be right back, just...let me take care of you, okay? Since it's kind of my fault you're in this shape." 

Blake couldn't come up with a good argument for that, so he let himself settle against the couch cushions again. His knee was throbbing and he would be limping around the set for a week more likely than not. But it was worth it. Everything with Adam was always worth the pain, because he got so much back in return. 

As he waited, he glanced down at his sore knuckles. They didn't swell up too bad, but they were red and looked angry. He figured his cheek probably didn't look much better, but he wore the bruises with a sort of pride.

Adam returned with two ice packs and two cans of beer. He had washed his face and changed into a fresh shirt. Sitting down beside him, Blake could detect the adoration in the other man's gaze. 

"It's not the first time I've gotten punched for saying something stupid. Usually I hit back a whole hell of a lot quicker than that, but I'll be honest, I just about saw stars..." He put the ice pack on Blake's knee. "But no one's ever been so willing to jump into a fight for me before. Thanks." 

Leaning over, his lips gently brushed the bruise on Blake's face. "My hero..." 

"Remember that when you have to carry me upstairs," Blake chuckled. "I am going to feel this tomorrow, that's for damn sure."

"I'm sorry." Adam leaned back on the couch and put the second ice pack on his nose.

Blake shrugged in return. "I'm not. If anyone ever hits you in front of me again, well, I'll do it a second time. It's one thing to say you love a person, it's another to stick up for them and watch their back even when it gets you knocked on your ass."

"I never knew you were such a romantic," He teased back, but his eyes were crinkled at the edges like they did when he was happy, even under the ice pack. 

"Yeah, well, I needed the right amount of rock and roll added to my country, I guess."


End file.
